


Niall the "Artist"

by deniallisstrong



Series: Niall Tumblr Drabbles (deniallisstrong) [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M, Niall Horan - Freeform, One Direction Imagines, One Shot, Tumblr: deniallisstrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-30 04:45:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3923425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deniallisstrong/pseuds/deniallisstrong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As you and Niall are painting your room, paint makes things a little bit messy...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Niall the "Artist"

                                                                               

 

“I’m heeeere!” A sing-song voice erupts from outside your apartment door.

You open up the door to see Niall starting back at you. “Oh, thank God,” you say, and he grins at you, shaking the two paint rollers in his hands.

“I came prepared,” he smirks. 

Gesturing him inside, you roll your eyes and say, “You’re such a dork.” You laugh, but it comes out harsher than you mean it, so you add, “But I’m glad you’re excited.” You turn your head around to flash him a smile, feeling your heart beat fast as you do so.  _Too soon._

Things were complicated between the two of you. Even now, you weren’t quite sure where you stood with him. Still, he was the only person who you wanted to help paint your living room.

“So what color did ya get?” He steps into the room, looking around at how empty and  _white_  it is. “Oh,” he says, peering inside the paint bucket. “Liquid gold.”

“You’re so Irish,” you snort, standing next to him and, not knowing what to do with your hands, you awkwardly place them by your sides.  _How come everything you do around him just feels so_ awkward? “In all seriousness, though, do you like it?” You bite your lip and glance at him, catching his eye.

“Of course, it’s the color of me people.” He shrugs, handing you a roller, and he pours out some of the paint onto a roller tray. Immediately, he puts some paint onto the roller and then jogs over to your wall. He starts feverishly rolling, up and down and sideways until his section looks like a three-year-old’s asterisk. You just watch, a grin forming on your lips and you put your hands on your hips.

“I don’t think you’re doing it right,” you call out to him, holding back a laugh.

You stand next to him and demonstrate the proper way to paint. “Basically, the rule is, don’t paint like a fucking madman,” you tease, looking over at him.

His eyes are focused on your mouth, and you suddenly become all too aware of the words coming out of it. He nods and looks away suddenly, and you’re not sure if you just imagined it all.

You two are quiet for a minute as you both pretend to focus intently on painting. You’re trying to think of anything to say, but all your thoughts have to do with him staring at your lips.  _Shit._

He breaks the silence first, and you exhale a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. “Is this lookin better?” He asks seriously, but when you look over he’s chuckling.

“You drew a penis on my wall?” You cry, your voice going up a couple of octaves. He smirks at you, only looking slightly guilty. “Well, here’s what I think of you.” You take a step closer to him so that you can reach his part of the wall. You paint over the top of his drawing, first a head and then, above it, swirls of poop.

You watch him out of the corner of your eye, watching his facial expression change from confusion to surprise. “You’re callin me a shithead!” He exclaims, his mouth open in shock. You nod slightly, a small smile on your face. He lunges for your paint roller then, and you turn away, laughing as you struggle to get out of his grip. Suddenly, you feel something wet slide up your back. You whip around to glare at Niall who’s sheepishly looking at the back of your shirt and his own paint-less roller. 

You pause for a second, waiting until his guard is down, and then you’re rolling the front of his shirt with bright yellow-orange paint, laughing at his shocked facial expression. He inches closer and closer to grab the roller from your hand until you’re backed into the wall. Your shallow breathing is all you can hear as his face comes closer and closer to yours. He grabs the roller from your hand then, deliberately taking his time as he gently sets it to the floor, keeping his eyes on you the whole time. Your heart is pounding so hard in your chest you can feel it ricocheting through your whole body. He cups his hands around your chin, spreading paint across your face as he does so. Leaning forward, his lips press softly against yours. You’d been imagining his lips on yours for the last few months, so when it actually happens, you can’t get enough of him. You kiss him back harder, feeling your back slam against the wall as he kisses you deeper. Your hands slide down his chest, frantically feeling for the bottom of his shirt. You feel him gasp against your lips as your hands slip underneath his shirt and rest against his v lines for a moment. You lift his shirt up, throwing it on the ground next to you. Your hands slide up to find a place to rest against his bare chest, the orange paint leaving a trail of where you’ve been. He pushes you more fervently into the wall until your bodies are right up against one another.

His hands slide down your body until they find your pant loopholes, his thumb barely sliding into your pants. A small involuntary gasp escapes your lips and you’re breathing so hard now that you have to pull back. “Let’s…” You start, hating the words as they leave your mouth. “Start out slow,” you heave, your head spinning.

He leans back and gives you a small smile. “What?” You ask, your eyebrows furrowed.

Looking you in the eye, he sighs, “I’ve always fuckin wanted to do that to you.” 


End file.
